


Methods

by kiichu



Category: Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiichu/pseuds/kiichu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He prays for death, but that's the last thing they'll let him have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Methods

“A couple  _years_?” The young woman shrieked, nearly breaking her iPhone in half. She paced the lobby of her work's facility, her heels clicking on the stone tile floor. 

Her mind filled with dread; how could it have been that  _long_? She wasn't prepared for this.

That old woman had, after all, promised to return them to the past. And she had; Clover, Alice, and Dio had all been transported to the past.

But she should have assumed something like a delay would happen; Akane Kurashiki wasn't exactly known for her trustworthiness or reliability. Clover had, after all, retold the tale of her kidnapping nine individuals and putting them through a nine-hour hell. Someone who would do that, no matter the reason, clearly didn't have enough empathy to particularly concern themselves with the goals of others.

Though the old woman had claimed to be 'saving the world' from the disease, Alice didn't believe her. Alice's own organization was doing a fine job handling all sorts of epidemics, even years after her disappearance. Granted, they didn't even know about Radical-6 yet, but now Alice herself had found a link that would help research advance.

Clover had been particularly happy about returning to the past (to see Light again, no doubt), and Alice couldn't argue with her. She could eliminate her father's killer in the present or future; so long as they had the link.

As it was, Akane couldn't send them back to December 22nd, 2028 – the very night they disappeared – but her esper powers managed to transport them to January 1st, 2031. Clover had checked her calendar as soon as they arrived, and called Alice almost instantaneously. Strange, however, that they had returned to their individual homes, rather than the specific location at which they had been knocked out.

It wasn't that bad, in all honesty; they were, after all, much closer to their time than they had been. But what bothered Alice was the lost time. How much had happened since their disappearance? How far had technology advanced? Had Radical-6 been released into the world yet? Had the cure been created?

She had half a mind to kick the nearest wall in frustration, but her heels were expensive, so she opted out of that rather quickly. Instead, she growled with annoyance and mentally cursed Akane Kurashiki for her half-assed words.

“Clover,” she finally ground out, shaking away the symptoms of an oncoming migraine, “Can you return to base?”

“Um... sure, Alice. Any reason why?”

“That link we had given base doesn't seem to be complying.”

There was a slight hesitation in her words. “You mean... Dio?”

Dio had returned with Alice, oddly enough. He was still under soporil, so bringing him in was a cakewalk. He wasn't technically a part of this timeline, but Alice was not going to take no for an answer. He was the single link to the bastards who killed her father.

“Yes. I thought we could use our skills to get some answers out of him,” Alice replied, her words as cold as ice. Outside parties may believe their methods were unorthodox, but they did what they had to. Here was a Myrmidon, Left himself – or, at least, a clone of him – that knew the whereabouts of Brother.

Truthfully, while Radical-6 curability was important, it wasn't Alice's primary concern. These Myrmidons, and Brother, had destroyed her family. It was the responsibility of Sigma (or Kyle?) to stop the virus. Alice and Clover would do what they could, but the only thing that mattered to Alice at the moment was revenge.

Dio didn't kill her father directly, but his affiliation, Free the Soul, did. That was enough for Alice's heart to freeze; she no longer cared if they resorted to torture.

Clover's voice broke Alice out of her thoughts. “A-all right, I'll be over soon.”

“Good. Make sure you have all your IDs; I think he's being kept in Cell 46. Meet me there.” Without so much of a goodbye, she clicked the phone off and put it in her purse.

The security was tight in this facility; two distinctly different IDs were required to even enter the front lobby, and several more to advance further. The whole building was locked up about as tightly as most government agencies. Even if one had their IDs in their hands and ready to swipe, it would take about fifteen to twenty minutes to reach any part of the building that housed critical information.

When she first returned, Alice was met with both confusion and surprise. While her coworkers couldn't believe their eyes, they rightfully chose to keep their mouths shut. She had made a mental note to discuss things with them later; the old crew would understand if she came up with a valid (albeit untrue) reason as to why she was missing for two years.

It was a few weeks since she had returned, and by now, Alice's cohorts greeted her with gusto. Granted, most simply disregarded her identity and recognized her authority from the color of her ID cards – a brilliant indigo hue.

The colors of the company's ID cards were set up quite predictably in the order of a rainbow – ROYGBIV, of course. Reds were at the bottom of the food chain in the industry, limited to only certain general areas of the building. Those with orange on their cards could have a bit more freedom, and so on. Alice, being an Indigo level, was only overshadowed by those with a Violet card.

In other words, she was not yet the Top Dog, but very close. Had she stayed in her own time, she no doubt would have been promoted before the “future”. Hell, she'd probably have been promoted by 2031, anyway.

She was actually quite surprised she hadn't been ranked up to Violet right away after bringing Dio in, but she supposed he was  _only_ a clone of Left, Brother's... well, brother.

 _Tch. Here he is on a silver platter... so where's my silver medal?_ Alice tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind; she wasn't expecting recognition, the greatest reward would be avenging her father, she was a ghost from the past resurfacing... among other things. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit cheated out of acknowledgement.

As if on autopilot, her feet directed her down a familiar route; the same path she took every normal day that always took her to her own little space in which she reigned. Her office was her kingdom; Lady Alice resided over the files and computer. Yes, it was just up the elevator ten floors, down the hall and one... two... three doors to the left...

She should have expected it, but the sight was still a stinging slap to the face. Her nameplate – the one that portrayed her name so boldly for others to read – had been swapped with another. Mr. Caden Fisher? Who was this man, and why did the company believe they could just  _replace_  her...?

Alice wondered, briefly, if Clover's office had been hijacked as well. Conveniently, it was right next door, and it appeared to be vacant at the moment.  _They could have at least left her name on it..._ Alice thought bitterly.

Stomping, she felt the urge to bitch at her coworkers, but opted out of it. Her temper had a habit of slipping out when it wasn't welcome; such was not the cool and collected mindset her job called for. She was twelve floors above where she needed to go, after all, and standing around complaining about her lost nameplate would be quite unproductive.

Two years, and it was like she never existed – never mattered in this  _damn_  company. But she had time to be angry later. There was something very important to do, and now. The sooner her vengeance came into plan, the better.

On her way to the elevator, she ran into her old secretary, Ms. Lilian Toms. The girl was a mousy thing, quite scatterbrained and always dropping files. She lost files so often, it was a wonder Alice hadn't fired her. Seemed she was still around, messing up someone else's files. When her boss had returned, Lilian nearly cried out of relief and admitted she thought Alice to be dead. How insulting.

“M-Ms. Alice!” Lilian cried, her face stretching in surprise. “I- I have great news! I've been reassigned to you!”

“Wonderful,” the taller woman replied, a sly smile on her glossed lips. “You can start by moving everything back into my office. Tell Mr. Fisher to move out.”

“O-oh, of course! But first, Ms. Alice... do you think you could tell me what happened to you? I was really worried!”

“Later,” Alice responded coolly, getting onto the elevator. Not surprisingly, her old assistant followed her. Well, while she was here, Lilian could provide some use to her. “Actually, right now, I need you and a few guards to escort me to the prisoner I brought in a few weeks ago.”

“Y-you brought in a prisoner, ma'am?”

Alice resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes,” she replied, “The cell is number 46, if I'm not mistaken. Dio?”

“Oh, him...! Yes, of course, ma'am.”

Once the elevator pinged, the doors slid open to floor B2. The two of them stepped out, meeting some guards at the doors of the prison. Quickly, they flashed their ID cards designating their authority. Lilian was a Yellow card, but she still had access with Alice's Indigo status associated with her.

“I was called in to investigate my prisoner,” she explained. “I'll need you to keep everything quiet and do not allow anyone – except for Clover, of course – into the prison.”

The guards nodded and chanted, “Yes, sir!”

Alice gave them an icy glare, and they corrected themselves rather quickly.

* * *

Barring when he was under a high dosage of anesthesia, the last time Alice saw Dio was when he confessed to planting the bombs in the infirmary. Excluding the feral look in his eyes, he was noticeably well-groomed with his fancy ringmaster coat and top hat. Taking a general look at his primped blond hair and stylish outfit, you would never think he was a psychotic clone of an evil organization. Alice sure didn't realize it until he was practically waving the detonator in their faces.

Sure, the man had a terrible attitude and probably had issues in the “playing well with others” department, but he didn't seem  _inhuman_. Maybe at times he came off as rather heartless and selfish, but it was a deadly game. He was acting like a dick, but it wasn't out of the ordinary in a situation like that. Granted, it wasn't completely out of nowhere, but his true identity still shocked most of their group – including Alice herself.

All memories and images of that proud, arrogant man disappeared as she made her way into the dungeons. Of course, the rusted place wasn't quite at a medieval level; the public would never let them have such inhumane setups. In fact, as far as outsiders were concerned, there were no dungeons at all. Prisoners? What prisoners? No, sir, of course this facility houses no criminals. What ever are you talking about? Ma'am, this isa first-world country; we treat our crooks as fairly as the law calls for.

To be fair, they hadn't used these basement levels for years. They was due for a tuneup, but there was simply no time to prepare when Alice dragged Dio's unconscious body in through the front gates. He was left to deal with the stench of the grime and dirt covering the walls and floors. Dio was special, she decided; enough of a threat to hold up in their custody and not in a regular jail cell.

Alice's superiors still had a knack for avoiding lawsuits and any sort of trouble, it seemed, and the dungeon remained undetected even now. The company rarely had prisoners, but when it did manage to scrounge up some, it didn't hold back. Too bad for one Mr. Dio, of course.

“Terrible” wasn't really an accurate adjective to describe the thing in the cell. Indeed, it barely had a shape anymore; all resemblances to a human being seemed to have been warped into the image of a caged animal. The unfortunate soul behind the bars was lying on its side, the blond strands falling from its head caked with filth. Its hands were chained to the floor, its clothes tattered and torn. Alice noted with slight alarm that the patterns along the ripped silk looked familiar; a distinct, circus-esque black and red and yellow combination.

This  _thing_... was Dio?

Alice took a moment to remember her resolve, and approached the creature. She managed to get a closer examination when she bent down to his level, and felt her stomach lurch.

How could a few weeks in a dungeon transform  _Dio –_  the cocky, self-absorbed son-of-a-bitch who nearly blew them all to bits – into...  _this_? It was... pitiful. No, pitiful was perhaps too gentle of a word. Pathetic? Hell, it was almost  _heartbreaking_  if Alice forgot why the blond man was here.

It was then that she noticed a gray gag fastened around his mouth. She rose to her feet, her eyes flicking to the guards and Lilian, all still outside the cell.

“Why is he  _muzzled_?” she demanded, her voice raised to a squawk. It wasn't so much that it bothered her; she simply didn't like things being done without a reason. “There had better be an explanation for this, or so help me-”

“T-there is,” the meek girl responded. “When he first awoke in the cell, h-he... tried to bite through his tongue.”

Alice looked back at Dio, disgust tracing over her features. He was  _that_  determined to kill himself?

“Well… I can't talk to him like this.” Almost gently, she reached behind his head to untie the cloth. His head lifted to meet her gaze, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of the old fire in his sunken-in eyes.

The chains rattled as he seemingly sprang to life, pulling at his restraints with newfound strength. “Fuck you,” he hissed quietly, raising his jaw in preparation for a violent bite to his own flesh. He crunched down, drawing blood, but Alice's words stopped him from going any further.

“I wouldn't continue, if I were you,” she advised. “You won't like what's in store for you. And you think you want to die  _now_...”

The warning connected, and he nodded weakly. Alice patted his head, grimacing at the grease laced through his tangled mop of hair. “You look like you could use a bath,” she commented, tracing her fingers down his cheek. He leaned into the touch; it was probably an unconscious motion, but she noticed it nonetheless.

“You can have a nice, warm bath,” she promised, “And a feast with delicious food. All we ask in return is the whereabouts of Brother.”

He sucked in a shaky breath, spitting out dried out saliva in her direction as he spoke. It seemed to take every bit of his strength to actually force his mouth to move, and his words trembled and cracked into an octave higher. “E-e-eat... sh-shit.”

Alice found she didn't like his answer. Her hand still on his cheek, she bent her fingertips, digging her manicured nails into his skin. Mercilessly, she dragged her fingers down his face; he hissed in pain but didn't scream as she'd predicted. Dark pink scratches marked his flesh; he narrowed his unfocused eyes at her, but said nothing.

“This isn't working out in your favor. Don't you want to be free?” she asked, clicking her tongue in disappointment. “I thought you worship types were all about liberty. Your organization is called  _Free_  the Soul, after all.”

Dio forced out a strangled chuckle, lowering his head. Alice hadn't noticed it before, but he looked awfully naked without that silly circus hat. “Y-you... you kn-know noth...nothing of our c-cause.”

“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” she replied, her voice honey-like. Perhaps threatening him wouldn't work; she always excelled in charming tactics, anyway. Something about her womanly features caused even the most resolved assassin to spill the beans. She couldn't blame them for wanting to stare. After all, how could they resist an Egyptian beauty?

“Dio,” she purred, puckering her lips. “What can I do to make you explain your cause to me? I'm...  _really_  interested.” Her hands ghosted over his bare chest, peeking out from under the ripped threads of his jacket.

He was so skinny now. They had only been back a few weeks, hadn't they? Was the organization feeding him at all? She wondered how much trouble they could stir up if the public found out that they weren't giving their prisoner food. At the same time, she wondered how many human rights activists would particularly care about a terroristic clone.

Ah, well... whether or not his ribcage was showing didn't really concern her right now. “Come on, Dio,” she urged softly, bringing her lips close to his ear. “What's the price of a man who doesn't even want you anymore?”

He looked at least a little fazed, his eyes screwing shut. “Y-you lit..tle... b-itc...h...”

“Do you remember what happened in the infirmary?” she asked, silently tracing his ribs with her slender fingers. “You were going to kill yourself with that capsule. Why was that?”

“I- I had... a p-pur... _pose..._!” he broke out into a wet cough at the end of the words, his head lowering as he hacked. Alice gave him time to regain his breath, and after a few moments he finally rasped, “F-fucking... bitch. M'not telling... you...  _shit_.”

Before Alice could even think to lose her temper again, a tiny voiced sounded behind her.

“A-Alice... what's going on here?”

“Clover!” Suddenly Alice felt silly, given that she herself had beckoned Clover.

The pink-haired young woman cautiously stepped towards her friend. “Is that... really Dio?” she squeaked, her legs visibly trembling.

“Yes,” Alice responded, her voice low. “He's been here since we got back.”

“Is this... how we treat our prisoners...?”

“No, he's a special case. I explained his connections to the Myrmidons and Free the Soul.” It wasn't as hard as one would think to convince her boss to give her responsibility of Dio's treatment. And she may have forgotten a few key parts of his care; Alice always prided herself on being a composed woman, but she never knew she could be this heartless.

Clover's face was pale as she bent down to Dio's level, her eyes gliding over his frail form. “Dio, are you... still here?” she whispered, reaching out to lightly prod his shoulder.

“It's Clover. Do you think you could tell us about Brother? Pleeeease~?” She batted her eyelashes at him, giving a winning smile. Alice felt a smirk of her own tug at her lips.

He shuddered under her touch, spitting in her general direction. “F-fuck... you,” he growled, a raspy cough running through his lungs again. Clover winced at the weak sound, bringing a hand up to his forehead.

She sighed, pity flashing in her emerald eyes. “Alice, I don't think he's going to say anything,” she murmured, her gaze flicking from his wilted handcuffed wrists to the ragged rise and fall of his chest. Alice wondered if she was thinking about him back in the warehouse; how much more  _alive_  he was then compared to now.

“We'll have to keep trying,” Alice replied simply, bending down to grab one of the man's hands. He lifted his head slightly to look her in the eyes; there was a raw defiance in those blue irises that wasn't there before.

But Alice was ready for the challenge. Gently, she took a hold of his palm. “You have such slender hands,” she commented, tracing his fingers with her own. “Did you know that there are fourteen bones in all four fingers plus the thumb?”

His eyes stared blankly through her, as if he didn't understand. “Dio, I'm sure as a trained assassin under the Myrmidons, you are aware of some rather…  _simple_ ways to get someone to talk,” she murmured, slowly pinching his index finger and slowly moving it towards the back of his hand.

“All I have to do is quickly slide it this way, and...” She cut off as he once more spit in her direction. With a shake of her head, she jerked her fingers and didn't even wince as she heard the distinct snapping sound; Dio howled in pain and writhed under her touch. Once she let go, his finger didn't uncurl from that macabre position, already puffing a disgusting black and blue shade.

When she could not hear any distinct words among his yells, she clicked her tongue and took hold of his middle finger. “Not ready to talk?” she asked, slowly bending it back in the same fashion. Dio screamed and tried to pull his hand away from hers. Unfortunately for him, another sickening crack sounded, and his cries only grew louder.

Alice grabbed a hold of what was left of his collar, her anger rising and spilling over. She dragged him forward until his terrified face was inches from hers. “Where the hell is that bastard?!  _Where is Brother_?!”

“Alice, stop!” Clover's voice rang out, the pinkette's arms wrapping around Alice's torso and yanking her back. Dio was thrashing, his cries finally dying down to a quiet mutter.

Sharpened senses were a critical part of Alice and Clover's training, so they both managed to pick up on the small, almost inaudible mumble escaping their prisoner's lips. Though his voice was cracked and soft – again, very uncharacteristic for Dio – the words were powerful.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, dry-heaving and squirming in his position on the floor. “ _Please_ , O holy father, holy Brother, holy master... take me from this flesh and allow my body to become the foundation of a bright... future...”

* * *

According to the other employees, he had been chanting those words as a mantra every day since Alice and Clover's visit, without fail. When they questioned him on what the words meant, he simply repeated them again. Nothing was getting through to him, and his health was rapidly deteriorating.

It didn't occur to Alice that he would pray for death. He seemed too determined a man, desperate as he was to escape the Nonary Game. It felt almost too cruel to keep a dying creature alive. Perhaps they should put him out of his misery; after all, even breaking his fingers yielded no results.

Clover had demanded better conditions for him immediately. He was given his own private room with a soft bed and edible food. It turned out they had been feeding him slop for the past few weeks – not that he actually ate. This time, hopefully, he would be able to keep something down (or at least have the ability to).

He was also being monitored; the cameras in his room were fed back to a main control room in the building, and then further to individual security offices. They were taking extra precautions in case he got any ideas to kill himself by banging his head against the wall or even bite his tongue again.

Despite Clover being a Green card level, and thus not at any authority to disregard her superior's orders, Alice found she couldn't argue with her. To be perfectly honest, her own behavior frightened her a bit.

Back in the dungeon, she was so fueled by revenge and hatred that she was willing to break a man's fingers for information. Dio's treatment in that cell was unacceptable, no matter how much she felt he deserved it.

Her heart had turned to ice almost overnight. Would her father approve? Absolutely not… he would never condone torture – not even to his murderers. How much of a monster had she become?

Clover once told her that while Akane Kurashiki did create the second Nonary Game to save her own paradoxical life, in her Zero mask, she had declared revenge against those who had harmed her and the other children. Against H and his crew.

How had that turned out? She had gotten her revenge, but at what cost…? Had her humanity slipped away? Was Alice's right now?

No. She wouldn't allow herself to become like a woman who claimed to strive to save the world but simultaneously puts people through deadly games.

Alice had almost been so consumed by revenge. Perhaps Dio's condition had finally snapped her out of that mindset; the fact that he was completely broken through was a bit unsettling itself. Dio wasn't a bright or powerful man, but no one could disagree that he was…  _eccentric_. Witnessing him waste away into skin and bones was disturbing, to say the least. It was not something Alice enjoyed, despite her initial desire to destroy those who took someone precious away from her.

And she had really expected that broken man to just give up the whereabouts of the man who was precious to  _him_  – someone he considered both a father  _and_  brother...?

Clearly, there were a  _few_  flaws in this once-brilliant plan.

For once in her life, Alice was at a standstill. She didn't know what to do; by keeping him in their facility, she would be forced to watch his downward spiral. But if they released him, he could go back and report to Brother.

…no, she argued with herself; he couldn't go  _back_ to Brother, for he didn't technically  _exist_  yet. Though there were probably a million others with his face, that particular clone – with the specific name  _Dio_  – did not have a place on this earth yet. If he was let go, he would most likely just take his own life.

Every night, his raw pleas for death could be heard on that state-of-the-art computer monitor – as clearly as if you were right next to him.

And Alice realized then that the Dio she now saw before her was just about the  _saddest_  thing she'd ever seen.


End file.
